


Exchange: Your Sword for My Heart

by solactier



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Dedication, Dream is smooth, George is hopeless and falling, King George - Freeform, M/M, Pining, Short Story, Short scene, knight dream, lowkey flirting, mostly George's POV, protectiveness and care, subtle but oh so affecting touches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:01:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27973431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solactier/pseuds/solactier
Summary: “Because,” Dream starts, softly spoken, “I want to be responsible for your scars, your faults, your nightmares,” he reaches out for George’s palm and places it on his chest, his full-metal heart. It warms something deep in George’s veins and sets his nerves aflame, “I want to hold it all, George, to have you rest your worries not only on my sword, but every single piece of me.”
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 126





	Exchange: Your Sword for My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fictional work I have uploaded on this sight and also the first DreamNotFound-related scene I've written  
> Reminder that this is purely a piece designed to be kept within the community, and should the CC's show any signs of discomfort toward fictional pieces, I will take it down.  
> While I do not expect this to be spread or seen much, I would still like to ask that boundaries do not be stepped over.
> 
> Other than that, enjoy! Comments, suggestions, or even criticism is welcome :)

Moonlight’s drip drenches the grand towers as George sedately struts down the inner ward of the castle, through an open aisle pained the smoothest of white, with lines of gold stretching across the fences and down a few steps. The flickering, orange shadows of lanterns are acting as the primary source of light, and it was comforting enough, _warm_ enough. The slight click-clack of George’s boots on pavement echoes throughout the field, but soon enough, the king halts upon noticing the silhouette of a certain figure.

On the off-side of the concrete path, Dream is leaning on a marble pillar, his green cape dripped demurely over his shoulder and legs crossed. The knight has his bow in hand, and his fingers are plucking distractingly on the strings like he is elating in his mind’s mellow timbre.

Dream’s gaze is fixed on the blue-black layer above, “My lord,” he begins with a sense of fruitiness in his voice, “what brings you out here so late?”

It takes George a full, dazed moment to find his voice, “I could ask you the same thing.” he responds while crossing his arms over his chest.

Dream’s twiddling fingers come to a stop, and he turns to face his king with a jaw outlined sharply in silver. He casually tilts his head downward and back up, and George is all too familiar with that motion, his knight’s silent but thorough examination. He can see Dream’s eyes coursing through his body regardless of the mask he wears; he can feel those enameled, _impending_ pupils studying the speckles of his skin, and it never ceases to send an abrupt line of shivers down his spine. And then Dream is taking a step forward, another, and another, until he is towering over his king. The armored character places his partially-gloved palm against George’s cheek and gently carries it down, fingers stroking his jaw and stopping with a thumb under his chin. George is downright helpless to the tender way Dream inclines his head, and he almost leans against the touch if not for the dumb realization that him and his knight are standing very, very close now.

George grips Dream’s wrist and tugs, his force surprisingly low, “Enough, Dream, you dumbass.”

The knight steps back in respect of his highness, but not enough to dislodge the benevolence cursive in the atmosphere, “It’s sir, actually.” And George just _knows_ the corners of his mouth are curving into a teasing smirk. He rolls his eyes in response, but a hint of a soft smile is displayed.

“ _Sir_ , dumbass,” the king represses, and his grin only grows wider when hearing an apparent snort escape Dream’s lips, “why are you doing this, anyway?”

Silence is all to be detected for long, dreadful seconds, until Dream is closing the gap between him and George once again; this time, fully aware of his action. George is dumbfounded and frozen while watching his knight raise his arms up and around his head, taking hold of a metal clasp.

Everything is revealed all at once.

George hears the thud of a mask dropping to the grass, but his eyes do not follow. Instead, his attention is locked to Dream’s pink-splattered cheeks, a battle scar that stretches across his nose, his dusty-blonde hair, and glimmering emerald eyes that capture the moon’s luminescence, and George can’t seem to stop staring.

Never before has he seen an appearance hold both danger and beauty. It is then that he is reminded, his knight is a wildfire; reckless, untamed, yet undeniably captivating.

“Because,” Dream starts, softly spoken, “I want to be responsible for your scars, your faults, your nightmares,” he reaches out for George’s palm and places it on his chest, his full-metal heart. It warms something deep in George’s veins and sets his nerves aflame, “I want to hold it all, George, to have you rest your worries not only on my sword, but every single piece of me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> Forgive me for any mistakes regarding the tags or the layout of the scene itself; I'm still learning.  
> This is merely a short scene that I was proud of and wanted to put out there. There is, however, a possibility I will expand this snippet and give it a proper plotline, but only time will tell :)  
> As i mentioned above, criticism or comments of any form are appreciated!
> 
> twitter and tumblr: @solactier


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